


Don't Believe a Thing They Tell You (They Lie)

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [41]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: By like...a week, Canonical Character Death (offscreen), Derek is supportive, First Kiss, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post Nogitsune, Song fic, Stiles Stilinski is Legal, Stiles blames himself, That Damn Radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 14:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Haunting guilt and a song that just follows him through his day, not that he notices. Stiles gets ready for a funeral for a fallen friend, and finds support from a certain werewolf who also knows what grief is.





	Don't Believe a Thing They Tell You (They Lie)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [devilscut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilscut/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Just holding on for tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905355) by [devilscut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilscut/pseuds/devilscut). 

> Title and Lyrics from Tegan and Sara (C) 2019.
> 
> [Actual Song Link](https://youtu.be/NnK215Fo1h4)
> 
> Borrowed the characters, hope I left them in a good state after I was done with them.
> 
> Don't sue. I'm poor.
> 
> Inspired by another fic. No, it doesn't take place at the same time. Totally different AU. But I read it, and this fic popped into my head almost fully formed. So, thank you for helping break my writers block.

Staring into the mirror, the gaunt complexion with purple shadows under his eyes, creating the illusion of a death mask stared right back at him. Gently tapping each finger, when he got to the expected ’10’ and was able to read the label on the deodorant on the shelf, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. 

This was it.

This was his reality now. Afraid of sleep in case he wakes up not himself. Passing out without warning, waking shivering and screaming, his fist pressed into his mouth to keep himself from waking his Dad in the other room. His grades were slipping, and Coach had benched him for lacrosse for what was left of the season because he took a pretty nasty blow to the head that caused a concussion, and a very worried Melissa to hover over him like she so often did.

All of which he could handle, if he didn’t have to look into their eyes, catching glimpses of fear when they thought they saw the shimmer in his eye that meant he wasn’t alone. He couldn’t blame them. He’d removed the mirror from his bedroom so he didn’t have to risk seeing it himself.

That’s what the nightmares were for. 

Smoothing his hair into something resembling style, he dressed quickly, tying the tie the way his Mom had taught him before things had gotten bad.

“Oh my Mischief. You always look so handsome in your shirt and tie. You’ll have your pick of any person to love, just like your Daddy.”

Feeling the corner of his mouth twitch at the memory of her lavender perfume, her ‘not quite there but not quite gone’ Polish accent, he finished what he was doing, using a small amount of the make up Lydia had brought to him and taught him how to put it on. 

He didn’t look like a zombie as much, which given Beacon Hills, and how much time he spent near the cemetery, was a good thing. 

Walking down the stairs, he wasn’t too surprised to see that his father had left a note for him beside the coffee maker. What did he expect? It was only a few days since the creature wearing his skin killed Allison. No one was going to forget that too quickly. They’d all still wanted him at the funeral because they knew, at least academically, that it wasn’t Stiles who killed her. The emotional impact though…would take some time to move past.

Hearing a rustling of footsteps behind him, Stiles spun around, arm drawn back to hit who ever was there. Stopping himself before he did something he would regret…and also break his hand doing…Stiles dropped his arm like a puppet whose strings were just cut.

Derek’s face was as impassive as it usually was, but his eyebrows were instead knotted with worry lines creasing the space between. Taking a step forward, he rested his hands on Stiles shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“How’re you holding up?”

There was no hesitation or guarded kindness in the words. He didn’t need to have werewolf hearing to know this was as genuine as it got. Letting his shoulders slump a little he blinked back the tears he knew would be coming today regardless of what he said.

“Hanging in there. Mostly. Not getting much sleep. Nightmares. Dad barely looks at me. Scott can’t stand being around me. Lydia’s…Lydia. United together with our shared nightmare of what happened. Chris…Isaac…just…you’re the only one who hasn’t seemed to change towards me. I don’t know what else I can…”

Nodding his head, the flash of long dead guilt passed Derek’s eyes as Stiles’ face crumbled under the weight of a thousand sins that weren’t his fault. Pulling Stiles into a warm embrace, the younger man held on as though he were drowning.

Not hearing the words that Derek was whispering into his ear, he let himself weaken a bit, knowing Derek would hold him up. It’s what they did for each other. 

Filtering through the open window, a tune from the neighbour’s radio could be heard.

_The things I've almost told you_  
_All the things I've thought about you_  
_It takes all my strength to face you_

_To hold still_

After a moment had passed, Stiles stood up, his face puffy and red, despite the product Lydia had picked out for him. It wasn’t ‘grief tears and ugly cry’ proof. Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he didn’t care how gross it would look. He just…didn’t care.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I got it. I’ll see you there?”

“I’ll be waiting for you. And Stiles? Be careful.”

_And when you give me your attention_  
_Things get lost in translation_  
_Again, tell you I don't love you at all_

“Thanks Der…I will.”

_But I do love you_

Watching as the werewolf walked out, not oblivious to the make up, tears and snot that were soaking into his shirt, Derek simply grabbed a suit jacket and put it on to cover the mess. Stiles felt his heart surge, which in turn made him feel guilty. He was getting ready for Allison’s funeral. He didn’t deserve to feel happiness. Not today.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror his mother had insisted on putting in the kitchen, he hissed at himself.

“You aren’t falling in love with Derek.”

_I don't want to be a liar, but I do it every day_  
_I don't want to be so tired, but I can't sleep any way_

_Don't believe the things they tell you they lie_  
_Don't believe the things they tell you, no_

Arriving at the cemetery, he saw an assortment of his classmates and the teachers. Scott, Isaac and Chris were in deep discussion in hushed whispers. The two werewolves caught his scent and as one looked in Stiles’ direction, raising hands in a weak approximation of a wave. His father was there with Melissa, who looked very much like he must right now. There were assorted Hunters milling about, to pay their respects. It was a very nice turn out for a very awful reason. 

Hearing the crunch of feet on the gravel behind him, there was a light scent of strawberry perfume.

“I thought you didn’t like that perfume,” his voice flat and dull.

“I don’t. But she did. It only felt right…”

Taking Lydia’s hand in his, she squeezed it tight enough to crack his joints. Looking over, her skin was ivory pale, her eyes just as haunted as his. 

From behind them, strong warm arms enveloped them, bringing them in close and tight, as though keeping them safe from the stray gazes being sent there way by those who knew what had happened.

“Hello Derek.”

“Lydia. Stiles.”

Lydia squeezed Stiles’ hand once more and gave Derek a kiss on the cheek in thanks. Derek let his arm drop to the small of Stiles’ back, tucking him in close.

Watching Chris clear the distance, looking all the worse for wear, he managed a small smile at Stiles and nodded his head courteously to Derek. Small steps.

“Stiles. Would you like to say a few words? Scott wanted to but…he doesn’t think he’ll be able to.”

_The thing my mother told me_  
_Was that everyone would love me_

“Are you sure…with…I mean because I…”

“Stiles. You didn’t kill Allison. If there’s one thing in this miserable world that I’m sure of, it’s that you wouldn’t be capable of hurting her. You were her friend and one of the few people she really trusted.”

_But in the dark I feel so lonely_

“Sure. I mean. Yes. I’ll say a few words for Allison. Thank you Mr. Argent.”

“Chris, Stiles. Just…call me Chris.”

_I’m numb_

Stiles looked up into Derek’s kaleidoscope eyes for support. What he saw reflected back was every hope he held for himself. A smile of encouragement, and a squeeze around his midsection. 

_She said it with so much conviction_  
_But I feel like something's missing_  
_Again_

“Just speak from your heart Stiles. You’ll know what to say.”

_Oh, I don't love me at all, I don't love me_

Nodding his head as they started walking towards the gathering of people, snaking his own arm around Derek’s trim waist, he couldn’t help but marvel at how peaceful it was here. His mother was in a different area, closer to the sounds of a babbling brook. He’d gone with Derek to where the grave markers for his family were. The rushing sound of the wind in the trees was very fitting for them.

_I don't want to be a liar, but I do it every day_  
_I don't want to be so tired, but I can't sleep any way_  
_Don't believe the things they tell you they lie_  
_Don't believe the things they tell you, no_

The ceremony progressed as they so often do, long winded preacher that, Stiles would have to admit later…much much later…in life that even Chris had forgotten about his grief for a moment due to being bored to a borderline coma. There was something to be said about not having the long drawn out thing. But. It’s what Chris had wanted.

After being introduced, Stiles took to the podium, adjusting his tie, and swallowing on a dry throat.

“I honestly don’t know what to say about Allison Argent that probably hasn’t been said while we were all waiting for this to start off. She didn’t live in Beacon Hills very long, which is so much more the shame. We weren’t lucky enough to have her with us here all our lives. But damn if she didn’t make it feel like she’s always been here.

_I'm a liar, no one believe me_  
_I'm a liar, no one believe me_

“Allison lived her life on her terms, and wouldn’t let anyone tell her differently. Not her teachers. Not her friends. Not her parents. Even when they tried…have any of you actually seen her move? She’d be out and away before you could finish a sentence. Which, Chris, probably made grounding her that much more difficult when our friend Scott would convince her to do something stupid.”

There was a small roll of laughter, Scott ducking his head in guilt, and Chris nodding his head in agreement.

“She taught our group of friends though that…we’re so much more than the sum of our parts. There’s no shame in admitting to a failure, as long as you picked yourself up and kicked it’s ass the next time you did it. A few heated Econ classes with Coach definitely drilled that point home.

“But as much of a badass as Allison was, at her core, she was a beautiful soul. Her world was shaken up a few times.”

He cleared his throat.

“More than a few times. And she fell down. She reacted badly. But, we’re teenagers. It comes with the territory. But she always got back up, and got back around to doing the right thing. To a fault. She didn’t let anyone tell her who she could love, or care about…”

_Don't believe the things they tell you_  
_Don't believe the things they tell you_

Stiles’ voice began to falter, feeling it tighten up.

“She just…did the stupid thing and helped us all when we needed it. She lived the kind of life she shouldn’t have had to. She was just a teenager. She was just a…”

Stiles’ resolve absolutely crumbled. His Dad, Chris and Scott moved to the podium and caught him before he hit the ground. Numb with grief, he let himself get escorted back to where he stood before, Lydia’s hand suddenly in his, clamped like a vice, Derek holding his other one, a look of concern apparent in his eyes.

The ceremony wrapped itself up, everyone of them tossing a shovel full of dirt and a rose on the casket. 

When it was Stiles’ turn, he slowly sifted the dirt into the hole.

“I’m sorry Allison.”

Setting the shovel down, he walked blindly back to the parking lot. His Dad and Melissa were called away shortly after everything wrapped up. No rest for the wicked.

Digging his keys out, his hand was trembling so badly, he couldn’t get the key into the door to unlock it. Warm hands enveloped his, steadying them, before slipping the keys out from between his fingers.

“How’re you holding up.”

It was a mostly rhetorical question, Stiles knew this. His onslaught of emotion that all but crippled him was pretty obvious on how he was doing.

“Peachy.”

_Don't believe the things I tell you, I lie_

“Come on Stiles. You can talk to me.”

Stiles smiled a joyless smile.

“Why would you want that. Everyone who I love gets hurt or killed. I want more for you than that.”

“Stiles…”

“You DESERVE more from life than that. I can’t love you Derek. I can’t let myself love you because if anything were to happen to you…”

_Don't believe the things I tell you, no…_

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles while the man broke down, not for the first time today. Likely not for the last either.

Letting Stiles exhaust himself and his tears, Derek merely stood there and rubbed his back before hooking a finger under Stiles chin, forcing him to look up at him.

“I’m not going anywhere Stiles.”

Pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips, he gave the human a small smile. This was not where he wanted to do it, but a part of Derek had to believe that Allison was looking down on them smiling, and blew her approval through the trees.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've posted anything. I'm still around. Just wanting to take my time. Though I should likely try and get the lead out...and stop playing computer games on the new rig I just inherited from a friend. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are my life's blood. Please please be kind.
> 
> For those not familiar: Italicized words are the song. And the assumption is that the song pops up someway somehow but I don't (usually) mention how it comes up.


End file.
